


A Woman Who Can Put Up With You

by Scarlet_Streak



Series: The Benoki Legacy [1]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Betrayal, Bitterness, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Lots of OCs - Freeform, OC - Anataly Benoki, OC - Saylvea Benoki, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, Sort of AU, eventually, fight
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-06-12 07:34:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15334983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scarlet_Streak/pseuds/Scarlet_Streak
Summary: Premise: What would have happened if Havoc Squad's newest member wasn't present for their betrayal?Aric Jorgan has hated the Republic ever since they hung him out to dry after the events on Ord Mantell, and he thought he'd finally gotten away from them by joining a smuggler's crew. Now they want him back as part of the same group that caused this whole mess. What will Havoc squad's new commander have to do to convince him to join up?





	1. Prologue: Betrayal

Out of all the news Aric Jorgan had expected to hear today, this hadn’t even been a possibility. “Havoc defected, sir?” General Vander nods. “Every last member, along with a handful of special forces groups and a ZR-57. Command is out for blood, Lieutenant. My hands are tied here.”

The beginnings of suspicion begin to grip at Jorgan’s heart. “What do you mean, sir?” The general hesitates, unable to meet the Cathar’s eyes. “I mean that the blame has to fall somewhere. You were their CO while they were on base, and—”

Jorgan interrupts, anger and betrayal burning inside him. “How could they have expected me to know about the defection? Havoc took their missions from me, nothing else! They’d barely even been here a month.” Vander shakes his head. “I know that, but I told you there’s nothing I can do. If I had any other choice, I’d take it.”

Aric takes a deep breath, try to be optimistic. “So, what are we talking here? Demotion? Time on some even smaller backwater mudball?” The general still won’t meet his eye. “OTH discharge. I swear I did everything I could.”

The room is silent for what feels like an eternity as Jorgan tries to wrap his mind around the general’s words. “Command’s cutting me loose just because Havoc went AWOL?”

“I told you they were out for blood. You’re lucky that isn’t worse.” Aric narrows his eyes. “I served with distinction for years with the Deadeyes and here on Ord Mantell. None of that matters?”

Vander spreads his hands in a helpless gesture. “I wish it did! Jorgan, if it were up to me—”

“With all due respect, sir, empty words won’t help right now.” The Cathar’s words are full of resentment. “Permission to collect my gear?”

“Permission granted. I’ll see what I can get together to help you land on your feet. Just because the higher up isn’t going to acknowledge your achievements doesn’t mean it will go altogether unnoticed.” Jorgan doesn’t respond, already walking out of the room. He’s fuming inside, finally able to understand where Commander Tavus and the rest of Havoc’s animosity towards the Republic came from. However, as he sat in the base cantina later that night wondering what he’d do next, all that anger, hurt, and confusion over the events turned into worry about what he’d do next. From the moment he could be, Aric had been a soldier. At this point, it was all that he knew how to be. What could he possibly do next? He couldn’t think about this tonight, not while everything was still fresh. Tonight he just needed a drink and sleep, and he’ll catch the first shuttle out of this hell of a planet tomorrow morning.

That would have been a wonderful plan if Aric had followed through with the last part. But soon the days turn into weeks, and one drink turns into two, then three, and then he loses count. All he had left was his bitterness over the way the Republic treated him. His only goal was to keep it under control. He wouldn’t be like Tavus and Havoc. Aric hadn’t stopped that low. Not yet, at least. For now, he’ll just keep everything inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I know the prologue was short, but I just wanted to set everything up. The main OCs that are going to be in this story are the Benoki sisters, which are my game characters. If anyone actually likes them, I'll hopefully be able to give them their own fic!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Updates will be slow, but I'll try to keep them as close together as possible. If you really like it, leave me a kudo or a comment!


	2. The Bar Fight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, this chapter will introduce my smuggler, Anataly Benoki, and include a couple of in-game characters from a certain Ord Mantell mission! I hope you enjoy it!

“Hey, lady, I’m talking to you!” The volume of the indignant patron makes Jorgan wince, even from across the room. He hasn’t had a drink yet, so yesterday’s hangover is still going strong. “Did you not hear anything I just said?” The man’s voice has only gotten louder, causing Jorgan to turn to find the source of the sound. It’s Corporal Dregg, one of those idiots who likes to hang out in the Avilatan Badlands. His attention is focused on a woman sitting at the bar. At first glance, she’d seem to be the perfect target for the Corporal’s advances. She’s pretty, and her unadorned clothes suggest a lack of wealth, but most importantly she seems to be alone. A closer look at her and the rest of the room, however, shows that she’s not as defenseless as she seems. 

As the woman turns to face Dregg, her jacket moves just enough to reveal a pair of blasters comprised of an old WESTAR-18 bolt pistol and a SSK heavy blaster, and it’s hard to miss the tall young man with a scarred face who stopped glaring daggers at the Corporal’s back only long enough to share a nod with her. From what Jorgan can see, none of this is going to go well for Dregg, even with backup from some of the other soldiers on base. He decides to go over to try to defuse the situation if only because the cantina closes after a fight. Aric isn’t keen on returning so early in the evening to the hut outside of Oradam village that he’s been living in. He stands up from his seat and walks towards the commotion, adding an exaggerated stumble to his stride. If things go south, he’d prefer Dregg to assume he’s more intoxicated than he really is, especially considering how out of practice his hand-to-hand skills are. “Hey, Dregg,” he says, purposefully slurring the words as he puts a warning hand on the man’s shoulder, “leave the woman alone.” Dregg forcefully pushes the Cathar’s hand off his shoulder and turns, a sneer on his face as he takes a half-step towards Aric. He can smell alcohol on the corporal’s breath as he says, “This doesn’t concern you, Jorgan. Just go back to drinking yourself to death.”

The corporal’s attempt to intimidate Jorgan doesn’t faze him, and he continues, “The lady has already said no. Just move on. Besides, I’m sure you can find a more willing participant somewhere else.” He notices that the confrontation has drawn a small audience, with soldiers and civilians alike gathering nearby, but Dregg’s bark of laughter draws his attention back to the larger man. “Trying to be the kriffing hero, huh?”

“Someone has to, and I’m sure that it isn’t you.”

“Did you hear that, everybody? The local drunk wants to play knight in shining armor!” He laughs again, raising his voice and drawing the attention of every patron who wasn’t already staring. “Can’t even walk straight, but he thinks he’s got a chance against me!” Jorgan raises an eyebrow. “You’re making an awfully big deal over ‘the local drunk’. Got Ta and Peters taking bets on this?”

“I was just hoping to give you another chance to embarrass yourself, considering that’s all you’ve managed to do since your mysterious ‘departure’ from duty. By the way, I never did hear what your OTH discharge was about. Care to enlighten us?” Jorgan can’t say he didn’t expect that. He shrugged. “I didn’t do my job. But that’s something you know all about, isn’t it?”

The fist that almost immediately connects with Jorgan’s nose makes it clear that the corporal didn’t take kindly to that jab. He finds himself reeling backwards into one of the tables, knocking cups onto the ground with a loud crash. His nose throbs, and, when he touches it, his hand comes away with bloodstains on the fur. Aric extricates himself from the table, shaking off the blow. “Lucky shot, Dregg.” The corporal smiles humorlessly, fists still raised. “Got a feeling it won’t be the only one, furbag.”

Aric’s response is to charge the man, which he belatedly realizes may not be the best course of action. His reflexes save him from another wild swing from the corporal, giving him time to look for a weapon. Now he wishes he hadn’t left his bag by his seat. He dodges another blow, which only seems to make the corporal angrier as he roars, “Are we dancing or are we fighting? Stop running, you kriffing coward!” Fighting a drunk man while Jorgan has a hangover really has to be one of the worst ideas he’s had over the past few months. The next attempted strike finally throws the Corporal off balance, allowing Jorgan a chance to go on the offensive. He goes straight for Dregg’s head, hoping to end the fight before someone else decides to join in. A hard hit to the temple knocks Dregg flat on his back, and he doesn’t get up. Aric turns to the crowd of spectators. “Anyone else?”

As the words leave his mouth, he realizes that that was an incredibly stupid thing to say. At least three soldiers step forward, and none look quite as unintelligent or inebriated as the corporal did. He takes a step back straight into the bar. Nowhere to run. He raises his fists, deciding never to pick a fight when hungover ever again. His head pounds, both from the aforementioned hangover and the corporal’s lucky punch, and blood is still dripping from his nose, staining his clothes and falling in spots on the floor. “Alright. Come and get me.” The soldiers come closer, but the sudden sound of blaster fire makes everyone reel back. The woman who’d been sitting at the bar is holding up one of the blasters Jorgan has seen earlier, smoke coming off the barrel. “Or you could all move along before I do something you’ll regret.”

The choice is unanimous, and soon the only people left in the room are Jorgan, the bartender, the woman, and the young man that he’d noticed earlier. The woman holsters the blaster, then waves the young man over. He immediately hurries to her side, an embarrassed look on his face. “Sorry, Captain. I should have come over and helped.” The captain shakes her head. “You knew I could handle it, Corso. Besides, I already had one person coming to my defense. If you’d jumped in, we would have had a much bigger fight on our hands.”

Corso relaxes slightly at her assurance, and the captain turns her attention to Aric, holding out a hand for him to shake. “Thanks for the help.” He accepts the handshake. “I knew you didn’t need it. I was just hoping to defuse the situation before it got out of hand.”

She nods. “How’d that work out for you?” Jorgan subconsciously brings a hand up to his bleeding nose. “Not too well.”

The captain laughs. “Plan B worked just as well, though. I’m Captain Anataly Benoki, and this is my first mate Corso Riggs.” 

“Aric Jorgan, ex-Lieutenant of the Republic military.” Anataly grins. “I heard. Can we buy you a drink?”

“Sure.” The three of them settle down at the bar, and Anataly waves the bartender over. He hurriedly pours a drink for each of them, then retreats into the back room. The captain takes a sip from her cup, then says, “So, OTH discharge.”

“Yeah. Circumstances are classified.” She raises an eyebrow. “Well, now I’m curious.”

“Only thing I can tell you is it’ll take a lot more than one drink to get me talking about it.” Anataly drops the point after that, opting for telling the stories about her crew’s adventures, particularly those about a man named Skavak, who stole her ship and gave Corso his scars. “I mean, I suppose I should thank him,” she finishes, “without him, I’d never have met my current crew, especially this charming farm boy.” 

She nudges Corso’s side as she says this, and Jorgan notices the light blush that covers the young man’s face at the action. “Thanks, Captain.” Anataly returns her attention to the Cathar. “What about you, Jorgan? Got any stories that aren’t classified?” 

He tilts his head thoughtfully. “Maybe one or two from my time with the Deadeyes.” Corso looks impressed. “You were a sniper, sir?”

“A pretty good one, if I do say so myself. We were on a mission on Tatooine…” The stories continue well into the night. After a few more drinks, Aric starts to nod off, the headache from the fight beginning to dull as the alcohol starts to kick in. Next thing he knows, he’s waking up in an unfamiliar bunk, and a vaguely familiar voice shouts, “Captain, he’s awake!”

He grimaces at the sound, a splitting headache already brewing in his skull. The same voice from before quietly says, “Sorry, sir. Wasn’t thinking.” Aric turns towards the voice. It takes his eyes a few seconds to adjust before he recognizes the speaker as Corso Riggs. “Just call me Aric or Jorgan. Where am I?”

“You’re on my ship in the Ord Mantell spaceport.” He hadn’t noticed Captain Anataly’s arrival. She stands in the doorway, leaning against the frame. “You passed out at the bar, and we couldn’t just leave you there. Come on, we’re about to eat.” Aric gets out of the bunk, still in the same clothes from the night before. The captain notices the bloodstains on the fabric of his shirt and in his fur and wrinkles her nose. “Refresher’s down the hall. You can clean up before you come eat. Corso, do you have any clean shirts you could lend him?” Corso nods. “I’ll go get one from my locker.”

Anataly and Corso exit the room, leaving Jorgan to his own devices. He stumbles his way down the hall of the ship, eventually reaching a door with the familiar markings of a refresher. He heads straight for the sink, and is surprised to find that it has working water. He assumes it must be because the ship is docked. He begins to clean the dried blood from his face, wincing as his hand makes contact with his nose. A quick inspection shows that it isn’t broken, but it’ll be badly bruised for a while. A knock on the door startles him. “Hey, it’s Corso! Brought you a shirt to change into.” After accepting the clean shirt, Jorgan closed the door again and changes, grateful to be out of the old, stained one he’d been wearing. Corso is still waiting in the hall when he exits the refresher. “Captain sent me to show you where we eat.” Jorgan nods. “That’s probably a good idea. Lead the way, kid.”

It’s a short walk back the way they came to the dining room, where Aric is greeted by the sight of an odd assortment of people: the captain, another human woman, a Zabrak woman in Mandalorian armor, a Wookie, a Mon Calamari, and a protocol droid. Anataly stands up as Corso hurries over to stand at her side. “Everyone, this is Aric Jorgan. Aric, let me introduce you to my crew. The redhead is Risha Drayan,” the human woman inclines her head, “and next to her is Akaavi Spar. The wookie is Bowdaar, that’s Guss Tuno, and the droid is C2N2.” This was entirely too many names for Aric to handle right then, but he nods his head in greeting. “Now that we’ve all be introduced, Seetoo, would you mind getting us all some food?”

“It would be my pleasure, Captain!” The droid ambles behind the counter and begins preparing meals, and everyone else takes a seat, with Aric sitting between Corso and Guss. One by one, every member of the crew is served. When C2N2 reaches Jorgan, he asks, “Sir, would you prefer to have just water or caf?”

“Both sound fine. Just need something to drink.” He notices the captain’s skeptical expression and adds, “not alcohol.” The droid returns to the counter. “Of course, sir. A cup of water and a cup of caf coming right up.”

The crew begins to eat as Aric waits for his drinks. After a few minutes of silence and polite discussion, Anataly addresses Jorgan. “So, after we brought you here last night, Corso and I talked.”

“Oh? What about?” The captain smiles. “Are you happy here on Ord Mantell, Jorgan?”

His response is almost instant. “No.”

Anataly and Corso exchange a look. “That’s what we thought. I’ve got an offer for you. You see, we have plenty of free bunks on this ship, and we could always use an extra hand.” Aric raises an eyebrow. “You’re inviting me to join your crew?”

She nods. “The food is good, the work is fun, and chances for revenge are plentiful. Besides, you don’t have to stay with us forever. It’s the least I could do after you helped me yesterday, and Corso knows I’m a sucker for a sob story from Ord Mantell.”

“Very true,” Corso adds. The captain extends her hand across the table. “So, what do you say?”

Aric takes a moment to consider the offer. He’s been given a free way off of Ord Mantell. The captain had been friendly so far, and the motley crew in front of him suggests that it’s likely he won’t face much judgement. He takes the captain’s hand. “What have I got to lose?” Anataly grins fiercely. “That’s what I like to hear. Welcome aboard, Jorgan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that the exposition is done, the next chapter will introduce my trooper, Saylvea Benoki. That will hopefully be finished in about a week.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the chapter! If you have any critiques, or you want to send me encouragement, please send me a comment!


	3. Chapter 2: Havoc Rookie

Jorgan is sitting in his quarters when the ship’s intercom buzzes to life. The captain’s voice reverberates through the halls as she says, “Meeting in the main room in five minutes. I’ve got an announcement to make.” Of course, nobody wants to be late when Anataly finds it necessary to use the comms system, so all eight members of the crew soon find themselves sitting around the ship’s main table. Anataly’s face shows a combination of nervousness and resignation. “We have a guest of mine who is going to be coming to stay with us soon. My sister, Saylvea, has requested to come aboard for an undetermined period of time, and we all know that I’ve never been able to say no to one of my little sisters.”

Jorgan looks at her, surprised. “You have a sister?”

“Seven, actually, but we don’t talk to four of them. Saylvea is the second oldest, right after me. She’s—” Anataly seems to hesitate for a moment, and she can’t quite meet Aric’s eyes. “She’s a lieutenant in the Republic Military. First recruit for the new Havoc Squad. I’m sorry, Jorgan.” Aric’s expression hardens, and he says, “That’s fine. You can just drop me off at the next space port. I’ll be perfectly happy to stay there until she’s gone.”

“I’d love to do that, but I can’t. She’s here for you.” Jorgan narrows his eyes. “What do you mean?”

Anataly sighs, putting a hand up to her temples, a put upon expression on her face. “She’s coming to speak with you on behalf of the Republic.”

“I’m not interested.” Suddenly, a new voice enters the conversation. “That’s a shame. I came all the way from Coruscant for this.”

He turns to see a woman in Republic military gear who looks almost exactly like the captain. The only difference between the two is that this newcomer has violet eyes instead of Anataly’s tawny golden eyes, and her skin is free of the small scrapes and scars that come with the life of a smuggler. Her orange and white armor bears the mark of Havok Squad, and there’s an assault cannon slung across her back. Anataly looks sheepish. “I knew that if I told you before she came onboard you’d find some way to get off the ship, and I could never say no to one of my younfer sisters. I’m sorry, Jorgan.” A slight feeling of betrayal flashes through Aric, and he turns to address Saylvea. “Whatever you have to say, I already know that I’m not interested. I gave the Republic everything I had, and they cut me loose the second they needed a scapegoat.”

“What they did to you in the aftermath of Havoc’s defection was inexcusable, and I apologize for that, but the Republic needs you. As Havoc’s new commander, I’ve been tasked with tracking down the defectors, and I can’t do that without a squad.” Jorgan shakes his head, looking back down at his cup of caf. “Then go get one. There must be plenty of new soldiers eager to wear Havoc Orange.”

“We both know that a group of rookies wouldn’t stand a chance against Tavus and the rest of his squad, especially now that they’ve joined forces with the Shadow Fist.” Jorgan looks up again, surprised at that news, and Saylvea adds, “Newest information from HQ. Can’t say that we’re surprised about it. I’m looking for the best of the best, and General Garza says there isn’t a better sniper in the known galaxy.” Her flattery falls on deaf ears as Jorgan stares at her coldly. “I guess you’re going to have to settle for second best.”

Saylvea meets his gaze calmly. “I don’t settle. You want revenge, and I need a sniper with field experience.” Jorgan shakes his head. “I don’t want revenge. I just want the Republic to leave me alone.”

“Then how about we make a deal? Give me a chance to prove that the new Havoc squad is worth your time. If you decide against joining, then I’ll tell Garza myself that she needs to find me a different sniper, and I’ll see what I can do to make sure that the Republic loses track of you.” 

“What if I don’t want to take your deal?” Saylvea smiles slightly. “Then I’ll wait until you will.”

The captain clears her throat, drawing both of their attention to her. “Jorgan, there’s only one person in the galaxy that I know of who’s more stubborn than me, and she’s standing in that doorway. She’s not going to leave until you take her deal and sit through her waiting period.” Aric groans, staring up at the ceiling as he weighs his options and then decides to give up. “You get two months. That should be more than enough time for you to disappoint me.”

He can hear the triumph in Saylvea’s voice as she says, “I’ll bet you 500 credits that I can convince you in a month.” Aric turns to see that she’s holding a hand out to him, which he reluctantly shakes. “I’ll take that bet. My rifle’s scope could use an upgrade.”

He can tell that she’s confident, and he honestly can’t blame her. It’s easy to tell that she’s new to the job; her armor doesn’t have a scratch on it, and there’s still enthusiasm and life in her eyes. Aric isn’t looking forward to watching it go out.


End file.
